In school the next day, Meg and Sally stayed to help with the
children. It was fairly clear by now that they weren't really
needed, but their friendship with Rachel was an excuse to do that, and
they found they liked being in an academic setting with the children.
Meg's confusion about what was different about Bobby was added to when
Rachel started acting odd too. She seemed completely normal
at first, but when she talked to Bobby she stuttered and couldn't think
of the word she was looking for. She handed Bobby a book to
read and her hands were shaking.
"Are you all right?" Meg asked, concern in her voice.
"What?" asked a distracted Rachel. "Me? Yes, of course. I'm fine."
"Your hands are trembling," pointed out Meg.
Rachel stared at her hands as if they actually belonged to someone
else. She blinked, and then looked at Meg.
"Cold. I'm still chilled from warming up the room." She
moved off to work with a child, but she seemed distracted all
day. When noon came she seemed to relax, and was her old
self. She turned to Meg and said "I'm working with Bobby this
afternoon." She was flushed as she said it.
"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Meg, worried now that Rachel had
something and wasn't paying attention to it. "Maybe you
should have the doctor look at you. You look flushed to me."
"Meg!" said Rachel. "I'm fine! Now, get those children home so they can eat."
Rachel watched them leave and looked at her hands. They were
still shaking. And she knew she looked flushed because she
felt flushed. Bobby was still reading as she straightened up the
room.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked.
He looked up and grinned. He nodded and stood up. Rachel's knees felt weak.
They walked at what seemed like a snail's pace to Rachel, but actually
arrived at her door in ten minutes. It usually took her fifteen
to make that walk. She opened the door and let him in, following
him. Then she closed and bolted the door. The bolt had
magically been there when she'd returned from being recuperated by
Eunice and her other friends. Bobby was already fiddling
with the stove, blowing on the embers left from her last stoking of the
fire that morning before she left.
Rachel, after she gave up her virginity at two in the afternoon the day
before, had slept peacefully until two in the morning. When she
woke in the middle of the night, she was warm and cozy in bed.
She'd had to get up to use the toilet, and had winced at the ache
between her legs. Her muscles were sore, like she'd walked
too much, or lifted too much. Except that these muscles were in
places she hadn't even been aware she had muscles. Once
back in bed she had tried to regain that warm cozy feeling.
She wished that Bobby was there with her. She'd be warm then.
She eventually regained that warm feeling, but she wasn't sleepy any
more, and her mind began to reflect on ... things. She
realized she was being silly. She realized she had done
something she shouldn't have. She realized that her fantasies
could never come true. In the dark of night she realized a lot of
things. By morning she had left her drunken hallucinations of
happiness with Bobby behind. She'd felt exhausted, even though
she'd slept for twelve hours.
She'd had to make herself go to school.
And, when she got there, and Bobby sauntered in, every trace of her
resolve not to repeat her mistake vanished like dandelion fluff in a
tornado. As soon as he looked at her she wanted to strip naked
and thrust herself against him. She was actually glad to
see Meg and Sally were going to stay simply because that meant she
wouldn't do something incredibly stupid in front of the children.
She couldn't remember a single thing she'd taught in school, she
realized, as she looked at Bobby's buttocks in his too-tight
pants. And now, here she was, with the man of her dreams,
including a few nightmares. One of those nightmares was of
her, waddling down the street in town, her bulging belly sticking out
in front of her, pulling her forward, as the townspeople pointed and
snickered behind the hand in front of each mouth.
He stood up and turned around. He smiled at her.
She realized that her dress was already half unbuttoned, and there was an unfamiliar slickness between her legs.
There was no pain this time, other than a faint residual ache in those
newly discovered muscles. Those muscles rose to the occasion,
though, and that incredible body filling explosion came so quickly that
Rachel moaned that it should be there and fade so quickly.
Her uncomprehending mind saw something in the distance that rushed
toward her as he continued to slide in and out of her and she sobbed
with joy as she realized that it could happen again so quickly.
Her hips thrust up so violently with her second orgasm that she lifted
Bobby, her back straining to make her buttocks clear the mattress by
two or three inches.
During her third orgasm, as she felt him tense and freeze, she felt his
prick move and jump inside her and that fabulous heat flooded into
her. Her sobs were gone now. Her joy was accepted
unconditionally, along with the seed she knew would make part of her
dreams come true. But now she laughed, because in her dream she
was proud, and strong, her swollen belly on display for the people she
passed as she carried her lover's baby down the street.
It occurred to her that, if she could reach a pinnacle more than once
in a short while ... he might be able to as well. She
didn't let him get up this time, holding him close, side by side,
trading kisses and touches. And to her delight her logic was
proved as he rolled on top of her again and took her to the mountain
top with him again.
It was bath night. Mavis sat, mending a shirt, listening to
Meg's description of people who had the bodies of playing cards, and a
bloodthirsty queen who would probably give the children bad
dreams. She glanced up at Bobby, with his lap full of girls, who
might as well have been sitting on toad stools, for as much attention
as they actually paid him. Their mouths were open, their eyes
staring as Meg fed their imaginations with images that took all their
concentration to deal with.
Naked children came running into the room, digging silently into the
pile of clean clothes, already listening to Meg's hypnotic voice.
Others were dragged to the bathroom, dragging their feet, wanting to
hear one more line, to see one more fantastic image before their
literary drug was withdrawn. Meg seemed not to notice, as if she
too was caught up in the story.
When the second batch of naked children appeared, Mavis put her sewing
aside and stood up, leaning over backward to ease her back.
"I filled the tub already for you Meg," said Donna, herding children toward the pile of clothes.
"I'm taking care of Bobby tonight," Mavis announced.
Meg looked up and Mavis would have sworn there was a touch of panic in her face, or disappointment ... or something.
"It doesn't seem fair to put it all on one or two people," she
said. She didn't even believe her own statement, and knew
it sounded flat.
She had decided to get to the bottom of the "Bobby phenomenon" as she
thought of it. Every woman who went in there came out
looking different, even though Bobby always looked like ...
Bobby. She saw Meg and Sally trade looks, and her determination
firmed.
Yes, she was going to find out what went on in there, and whether she was going to have to do something radical or not.
Bobby's world had undergone a lot of changes since he had come to
Milleson House. His wary attitude - his will to survive - had
abated to some degree as survival became much easier. The
attitudes of the people he'd encountered, primarily the women who were
suddenly thrust into his life, had exposed him to something that no
other place he'd ever live had. He'd been exposed to love,
and caring, and unselfishness. He was keenly aware of all this,
though he knew nothing of the theory that Mr. Maslow would put forth,
and that he was firmly ensconced on level three of Mr. Maslow's pyramid
of needs. He was also keenly aware that he had the capacity to
make the women feel just as wonderful as they made him
feel. There were things he still didn't understand.
Perhaps those would come in time. His grasp of morality was
tenuous, at best, though he knew that stealing was wrong, and killing,
though only under certain circumstances. He was, however,
beginning to understand the concept of love. It was still a
strange thing ... this love thing ... but he had received it from a
number of women, and had found inside himself, the ability to return
that love to those women.
It never occurred to him that in the society in which he lived, a man
was expected to return the love of only one woman. Had
someone sat him down and told him that, he would have
laughed. Why in the world would someone want to limit that
incredibly wonderful feeling? He had reflected on the fact that
each of the women he had come to know was different in some ways, and
alike in others. It seemed logical to him that they would
show their love in ways that were also different, and the
same. He didn't think it was odd that Meg and Sally
loved him with their mouths, while Prudence and Rachel loved him
between their legs. If he'd been asked, he would have said
that he imagined he'd love all those women in all those ways sooner or
later.
Now, he was being taken to bathe by Mavis. He knew she was "in
charge" of his world. He knew that whatever she said was
law. But he knew she was a woman also, and that she loved
him. Her status as an authority figure didn't make him wary,
since his teacher was also an authority figure who had loved him and
loved him well. He knew what all the other women who loved
him had done when they took him to bathe. It didn't occur
to him that she would do anything different in the bathroom.
He liked to look at her. Her body was different than that
of the others, with a little more flesh on it. Her face was a
little more lined. She stood up a little more slowly than the
others, and stretched a little more often. But she was soft and
warm when she hugged him. He looked forward to what he assumed
would happen in the bathroom.
It was for all those reasons that, when he dropped his pants in front
of Mavis Milleson, that he was fully erect, and ready to please, and be
pleased by the woman.
To give Mavis credit, her intentions were more those of a detective,
trying to gather evidence to support a hypothesis, than those of a
woman trying to get a glimpse of something she knew, on some level, had
to exist.
But knowing something exists, or would exist under certain circumstances, is different than being confronted with that object.
Mavis was a strong woman ... a resolute woman in most situations.
She cannot be blamed for having been, not so many years earlier, a
hot-blooded woman who desired to fill a whole house with children from
her loins. Her husband had been a caring man, who made sure that
his wife experienced the same bliss he did as he rode her to
earth-shattering orgasms. She cannot be blamed for storing
memories of those earth-shattering orgasms in a tiny corner of her
mind. Like a safety deposit box in a bank some distance
away, those memories were not often visited, but were treasured,
none-the-less. And while Mavis controlled her conscious
mind, there was an unconscious Mavis who knew from the look on Meg's
face, that time her dress was buttoned wrongly, and from the change in
Sally's attitude, and from the bounciness in Prudence's step, that
being in that bathroom with Bobby was something that could make a
woman's life better than it had been.
Mavis had clamped down on her own emotions when her husband had
died. She had forged on ahead, and done what needed to be
done. She had pushed her own emotions and passions into a tiny
box, like a traveler sits on a too-full suitcase to get it
closed. She tried to be proud of how she had
survived. But the unconscious Mavis ... the passionate Mavis ...
the hot-blooded Mavis inside her ... that Mavis was tired of being
cramped and unused and hidden away.
Had the conscious Mavis known what her unhappy inner self wanted, she
might have been able to beat it back into submission. But
when she saw that strong, young, virile penis pointing at her like an
accusing finger, the latch on her over-full emotional suitcase
stretched to the snapping point like it was made of cheap
plastic. She wouldn't have been more surprised if an
alligator had stuck its head up out of the tub and said "Hello, I'm
Chuck, your new boarder."
She was, in fact, speechless.
Bobby knew that Mavis used the tub on bath nights, after all the others
were done and all the children were in bed. He'd heard her
complain before that it caused her to go to bed too late
sometimes. In Bobby's simple world, it seemed that the
rational thing to do was for him and Mavis to bathe at the same time,
like he and Meg had done, since they were both in the bathroom.
To that end, he began helping Mavis prepare for their bath by helping her undress.
Mavis watched as Bobby's nimble fingers made short work of the buttons
of her dress. Mavis, having had no children, still had youthful
breasts. She thought of them as not too large, and not too
small, but a bother, because they weren't good for anything,
particularly with those long sensitive nipples perched on top of them
that kept trying to remind her that she was a woman and that they
needed attention. As Bobby pushed the dress off her
shoulders and it began to slide down her arms, the conscious Mavis took
a breath to demand to know just what in tarnation Bobby thought he was
doing. About then Bobby saw a fat, distended nipple and
leaned in to see what it tasted like.
Mavis' unconscious mind, loose now inside her body, was doing an
inventory of all the unused sexual parts of her body. It
was alerted to the fact that a nipple was being stimulated and shouted
"YES! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!" It then hurriedly went
about making sure that all the other unused sexual parts of her were
oiled, primed or otherwise ready to experience the same fabulous
stimulation.
"Bobbeeeeeeee" squealed Mavis. Her conscious mind got a word in edgewise. "What are you doooooooing?"
Bobby kissed up her chest to her lips and suddenly Mavis couldn't breathe any more.
Before she could catch her breath, she was standing naked in the
bathroom with a Bobby who was equally and gloriously naked. He
pulled her to the tub and, she reacted instinctively by stepping into
it. He joined her, behind her, and sat down in the warm water,
spreading his legs in an obvious invitation for her to sit between
them. She stood, eyes wide, ankles and calves warm and
stared at what would press against her lower back if she accepted that
invitation. It looked larger through the clear water and the
slickness between her legs began to run down her inner
thighs. He reached up with one hand to get the soap, and
the other to take her hand and pull.
"T-t-this is how you take a bath?" she whispered.
He smiled and nodded, looking at her with eyes she could just
drown in and she felt her knees bend as her unconscious mind told her
to sit.
Then his soapy hands were all over her shoulders and back and sliding
around to cup and massage her breasts and, again, she couldn't
breath. He pulled her back against his chest as his hands
slid over her distended nipples and dipped down to rub her
belly. She fully expected those slippery hands to dip lower
and, while her conscious mind screamed at her to stop this immediately,
her knees smacked into the sides of the tub loud enough to make a dull
thunking noise. She registered the pain of her knees
hitting the porcelain-covered metal, and that pain might have supported
her conscious mind, had not his hands come back up to twiddle and play
with her straining nipples again. She groaned and her hands,
which had been gripping the edge of the tub at the insistence of her
conscious mind, which was telling her to stand up this very minute and
get OUT of that tub, fell away as they betrayed her. Those
hands went to cover his, HELPING him rub and squeeze her
breasts. To her conscious mind's horror, her hands pushed
his lower until they went where she had earlier thought they were going
to go.
She leaned hard against him as one of his fingers split her labia and
now no longer soapy, slid across her clit like a knife on a sharpening
stone. Her buttocks came up off the bottom of the tub as his
finger dipped into her. As she rose, his finger helped,
pulling at her and she squealed an inarticulate whine of pleasure.
Her self control ... that tenuous stretched plastic latch on her
emotional suitcase shattered, and her passionate nature surged out like
a starving wolf that has been caged and sees fresh meat lying on the
ground.
Her body surged, her hands gripping the edges of the tub again and
pulling her up. But her conscious mind was no longer
telling her to do this. Her unconscious mind had screamed
"SHUT UP!" and she got out of the tub, pulling Bobby up with her and
then down onto the slim pile of padding that was her crumpled
dress. She landed hard, bruising her buttocks, but she
didn't care as she pulled Bobby down on top of her between her spread
thighs. He knew what to do, and before she could grasp his
manhood he had it in his fist, poking it where his finger had just
been. Her hands made claws and she leaned upward, her belly
muscles straining so she could reach his buttocks.
As she felt the nose of his prick enter her she dug her fingers in and
pulled hard. Bobby let go and, reacting to her nails in his
flesh, slammed forward, skewering her to her core.
It was fortunate that Donna was still upstairs, putting children to
bed. She was by herself, which meant she had more children to get
tucked in than usual. That was because the other three women were
huddled, not exactly outside the bathroom door, but not far from
it. Meg and Sally knew, of course, why each other were
there. They were in a panic as to what Mavis would find out
about what they had done with Bobby. No one had told them
that Prudence had given Bobby an 'extra' bath, and they didn't know
that she too was concerned about what Mavis was going to find out in
that room. That was why all three of them were there,
instead of doing what they normally would have done.
It was fortunate that Donna was still upstairs, because Mavis' shriek
as her pussy was filled with hard cock would have caused Donna to break
down the door. These three, however, heard in that shriek,
echoes of their own shrieks, though, of course, theirs had been silent
ones, more or less. Meg and Sally stared at each other,
their mouths open. Then, as one, they turned to Prudence, whose
hands were cupping her breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples
through the cloth that covered them. She jerked her hands
away instantly, and her face flamed red.
Meg was astounded.
"You know?" she asked, unbelieving.
Prudence's suspicions about the others gelled. She assumed
they had done with Bobby what she had done with Bobby. And what
MAVIS was now doing with Bobby!
"I gave him a bath the other day when he got coal dust all over him," she said, her voice meek.
Sally spoke, her voice tight. "You mean you ..."
"He showed me how you give him a bath," said Prudence. "I couldn't help myself," she whined.
Sally's world had changed radically when she had experienced new things
with Bobby. Even though she hadn't been able to repeat the
experience, just the fact that it had happened made her feel like a
real woman. She wasn't sorry at all that she had done something
most people would shun her for. Her primary concern was that the
only man she'd ever 'known' would be sent away if anyone besides Meg
ever found out about it. That came out now.
"Well, I feel better," she stated flatly.
"What?" asked Meg and Prudence in concert.
"I don't think Mavis will be sending Bobby anywhere after this," she explained.
Another joyous wail came through the door, along with a slapping sound
that Prudence recognized, and Meg and Sally did not. That
was the sound of Bobby's abdomen smacking Mavis' abdomen repeatedly.
"What's THAT?" asked Meg, suddenly looking unsure.
"That's the sound of a woman who likes it hard and fast," said
Prudence. She covered her mouth with her hand and blushed
at her randy statement.
Meg's eyes got rounder. "You mean they're ....?"
Prudence was confused. "Of course they're .... Oh my goodness. You mean you didn't ...?"
"Didn't what?" asked Sally, also confused.
"Didn't you two make love with him?" asked Prudence, her face going
ashen as she thought she might have made a horrible mistake in
admitting what she'd done.
Meg's mouth dropped open. "No! I mean I played
with him" she looked over at Sally "We played with him
and he played with us and it was wonderful ... but we didn't do
THAT!" She turned to Sally "Did you?"
Now Sally had finally gotten to where everyone else was. Her
reaction wasn't quite as virginal as Meg's, and her eyes had a far away
look in them. "No, but from the sounds Mavis is making I wish I
had."
Her eyes cleared as she realized what she'd said and she blushed too.
"Oh my word," said Prudence.
"What about Donna?" asked Meg suddenly.
All three women looked at each other.
"She's never been alone with him," said Prudence.
"No" said Sally. "I mean I know that, but what if she comes back down and hears that?" pointed out Sally.
Prudence blanched. "Oh my."
"Maybe she's done something with him too," said Meg.
"I don't think Donna's had a chance to do anything," said Prudence.
"We didn't think you'd done anything," pointed out Sally maddeningly.
"Well, if she comes down here and hears Mavis ... and she HASN'T done anything ... she'll call for the constable!" said Meg.
Sally, the calmest of the three at the moment, said "I'll go up and
stall her. You two see if you can do anything to quiet things
down in there."
"What, exactly are we supposed to do?" asked Prudence, frowning.
"I don't know," said Sally. "Bang on the door or
something." She ran for the stairs, as if she were afraid
that Donna might be on her way down at that very moment.
The two remaining co-conspirators, who were distinctly uncomfortable BEING co-conspirators, looked at each other helplessly.
There was another wail of ecstacy through the door, and more smacking sounds.
"You bang on the door," suggested Prudence.
"I'm not banging on any doors. I've never done what they're doing in there!" stated Meg, backing away as she said it.
Prudence looked haunted for a few seconds, then straightened her
shoulders and turned to face the door. Unformed thoughts
flitted around in her head as she raised her hand daintily, as if to
knock politely to report for an engagement somewhere.
Mavis let loose with another wail of unabashed pleasure inside and it
wavered through the door and hit Prudence like a wave of force.
She looked toward the stairs and felt unaccountably relieved that Sally
and Donna weren't standing there, horrified.
Then, too rattled to think clearly, she opened the door instead of knocking on it.
She blinked as Mavis' was exposed, lying on the floor of the bathroom,
her legs thrown wide, while Bobby repeatedly slammed what Prudence knew
was a fabulously long and hard penis into the woman violently.
"Stop making so much noise!" ordered Prudence in a loud hissing
voice. "The children will think the house is
HAUNTED!" Then she pulled the door closed firmly and turned
around to face an astonished Meg.
"You ... you ... you" stuttered Meg, who had also seen what was going
on inside the room, and whose knees were so weak that she knew she was
going to have to sit down on the floor any second.
"Oh be quiet," said Prudence, her own knees not all that sturdy at the
moment. "Go do something that will make some
noise." She looked around and, for lack of any other idea,
began moving chairs away from the dining table.
Mavis was experiencing many of the same feelings that Rachel had felt
that very afternoon. She had, indeed, liked hard pounding
sex in those short months that she was able to have it, and her husband
had been a lusty lover too. Truth be told, hard pounding sex was
the only kind of lovemaking that Mavis had any experience
with. It is quite possible that that was why, when she
suspected some kind of hanky panky was going on in the bathroom, that
she did not suspect that full marital sex was taking place.
It had always been quiet in the bathroom when one of the women was in
there with Bobby, and in Mavis' experience, a woman just wasn't quiet
when she was stuffed full with a hard penis.
She was also multi-orgasmic, something else she assumed all women were
like. She was on her third mind-blowing orgasm when the
bathroom door opened and Prudence's pale visage appeared, looking
upside down to Mavis, as she had said what she had said. The
words had registered with Mavis, along with something in her mind that
suggested she should be horribly embarrassed, but she was at the very
breaking point of that third orgasm, and when the door closed, it was
as if she had permission to finish it, so she did.
She fell limply back to the floor just in time to feel Bobby tense, and
to hear his soft sigh, as she was suddenly filled with his warm essence.
As that feeling of hot sperm filled her belly, Mavis' conscious mind
came back, hat in hand, begging to be let back into control. It
was slightly battered ... a little disheveled ... and nowhere near as
cocky as it had been half an hour before. Mavis, like Rachel,
felt whole again. Her conscious mind began whispering that she
knew better, and that she shouldn't have done this ... shouldn't have
let this happen. It told her that this would ruin everything she
had built up. She looked up at Bobby's face, his eyes tightly
closed, a grimace of ecstasy stretching his lips tight across his teeth
as his prick gave a final spurt of lovely hot sperm. His
eyes opened and his head dipped, his big, liquid eyes locking with hers
as his prick gave that final spurt. He let his head droop
to give her a kiss that, after the violent pounding he had given her,
was so tender that it brought tears to her eyes.
In that split second, she knew that she had to find a way to prevent
this from ruining everything. Again, her conscious mind was told
to "Be quiet, and let me think". Instead of thinking, though, she
kissed him back.
Of two minds now, Mavis had a silent conversation with herself as they
finally separated. She groaned as she sat up. The
floor had been hard and unyielding, and she felt like her bones had
been required, as they met Bobby's ardent thrusts, to take a lot of the
force of his magnificent thrusts. As he got to his knees,
her eyes went to his penis, which now looked much more like it did when
the women led him out of this room. Her eyes went to her
own sex, which was drooling his spend out onto her dress.
"You're in a real pickle now," whispered her conscious mind, knowing
what that dress would look like if she put it back on.
Another part of her mind was replaying what had happened when the door
opened ... what Prudence had said when she saw ... what she
saw. That part of her mind suggested that Prudence's
reaction wasn't quite what the conscious part of her mind would have
expected it to be. She shook her head, unused to arguing
with herself like this. She wondered fleetingly if she was
going mad.
Bobby stood and reached down to pull her up. When she stood
she just came naturally into his arms. Half her mind said to push
him away, and the other half laughed and suggested that hugging him
back was the most sensible thing to do, considering what had just
happened.
Then there were a few kisses. Finally she pushed him away.
"Is this how every bath you've taken has gone?" she asked.
Bobby smiled, but shook his head.
"But they went something like this?" she insisted.
He nodded, still smiling.
Mavis stood there, naked and wet. For lack of anything better to
do she got a towel. Bobby took it away from her and dried
her. Half her mind told her to make him stop, while the
other half loved being pampered. When he was done she took
the towel and dried him in return.
She picked up her dress, which was, indeed sodden where she had lain on
it. Her ears registered scraping sounds outside in the dining
room, but she ignored them. She couldn't think. There was
something warm running down her thighs and, without thinking, she wiped
at it with her dress, making it even worse.
"I don't know what to do," she said to herself.
As if by magic, the door opened again, only a few inches this time, and
a slim arm appeared holding a fresh dress. Nothing was said, and
the arm just stayed where it was until Bobby reacted and took it from
the hand on the end of the disembodied arm. The door was
pulled closed quietly.
Mavis was aware that what had just happened was very important somehow,
but she couldn't think very clearly just yet. She took the
dress when Bobby handed it to her and mechanically pulled it on.
She suddenly saw her shoes lying a few feet away, and wondered when in
the world they'd come off her feet, and who had taken them off.
She shook her head again and then realized that Bobby was standing
patiently, still naked.
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" she asked.
He shook his head and pointed at the door.
"Oh yes, they always bring you out naked, don't they?" She
shook her head again. This was crazy. She couldn't
just walk out the door with him and act like nothing had happened.
"On the other hand," said the other half of her mind, "what else are you going to do?"
She opened the door and stepped through it.
Prudence was sitting where Mavis usually sat, and was mending the same
shirt that Mavis had abandoned to take Bobby to the
bathroom. She didn't look up. Meg was, mopping the
floor where the dining room table had been, but no longer was, for some
reason. It, along with the chairs, had been pushed away to clear
the floor she was now mopping.
Meg looked at Mavis, and then Bobby, who was walking behind her.
Her eyes went to the open door of the bathroom and she dropped the mop
to hurry to the door. Mavis turned around and watched as
Meg scooped up the sodden dress she had abandoned, and came out with
it, pushing it into the basket, under the children's dirty
clothes. Then she reclaimed her mop and began mopping the same
spot she had been mopping when Mavis and Bobby exited the bathroom.
"Get something to wear Bobby," said Prudence, like it was any normal bath night. "And then off to bed with you."
Mavis stared around her as if she were in a foreign place, where
nothing she saw made any sense at all. Footfalls came from
the staircase, and Sally and Donna came into view.
"What took you so long?" asked Prudence, looking up from her mending.
"Oh, June Bug wanted to be told a bedtime story," said Sally, smiling. "So Donna and I made one up."
Donna looked confused. "I still don't understand how you knew she wanted to be told a story."
Sally waved a hand. "I checked on her and she looked
unsettled. I asked her if a story would help and she nodded, like
Bobby. You know, she's getting almost good enough at her letters
that she'll be writing notes like Bobby too pretty soon.
Won't that be nice?"
Mavis realized her mouth was open and closed it.
Donna looked at Mavis strangely. "That isn't the same dress you had on earlier ... is it?"
Prudence laughed. "Mavis found out how exuberant he is
about his baths. She had to change. Now
she knows how Meg felt when she got all wet."
"Oh," said Donna. "Well, surely somebody could teach him not to splash so much."
Mavis had the urge to blurt out that Donna could give it a try next time, but she couldn't get it out because Donna went on.
"And what in the world happened down here?" she asked gesturing at the furniture and Meg with the mop.
"The floor under the table hasn't had a good cleaning in a while," said
Meg sensibly. "I hope the noise didn't disturb the
children. I just had a hankering to do it once I thought about
it."
Mavis' mind had been going ninety miles an hour as she took in what was
going on. Prudence, obviously, and Meg, probably, knew exactly
what had happened in the bathroom. Now that she looked at
Meg, she knew it was Meg's arm that had supplied the new
dress. And the uncharateristic story telling episode
suggested that Sally had kept Donna ... the only woman in the house who
hadn't yet given Bobby a bath ... upstairs while Mavis did what she had
always done when she was being loved ... made noise. And
these two had made noise to cover her own.
She looked at Meg, her eyes wide. "Thank you Meg," she said. "That was very thoughtful of you."
Meg smiled. "You're welcome. It was needed." She smiled, a little nervously.
Mavis tried to keep the flush she felt building from showing, and
turned to face away from the rest. "Well, the whole place needs a
good cleaning, but perhaps we could wait on the rest until tomorrow."
"Yes, it would be much too noisy to do anything more tonight," said
Prudence, her eyes firmly on the shirt. She giggled.
"I don't know about you all," said Donna, getting her coat off the
hook, "but I'm going home. It's been a long, hard
day. I can't wait to get into bed."
She looked up, startled as three women started laughing.
Mavis, feeling something loosen inside her, joined them. If Donna
had been listening closer she might have detected a note of hysteria in
that laughter.
"What in the world is WRONG with you all?" asked a very puzzled Donna. "What did I say?"
Meg waved her hand. "Nothing. We're just tired. You
know how you get giddy sometimes when you get tired? That's all
it is, I'm sure."
Donna shook her head, unable to help but smile as the women kept giggling.
"Let me get my coat and I'll walk with you," said Prudence, wiping her
eyes. She bustled around and then the two women left, closing the
door on sudden silence.
Whether it was by unspoken agreement, or just because the women were
too embarrassed to talk about it, nothing more was said that
night. At least not among the women. Meg took
Bobby upstairs to his room and, when he was tucked in she stood and
looked at him.
"Where did you learn to do that, young man?" she asked.
Bobby reached for the paper that was on the table beside his bed, but
Meg stopped him. "I didn't actually mean to find out," she
said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Was it fun?
What you did with Mavis?"
He nodded energetically and she sighed. "I've never done
that," she said, as if confiding to a girlfriend. "I'd be scared."
Bobby took his arm out from under the blanket and reached to stroke
Meg's cheek. It was obvious he was saying he'd be gentle
with her. She giggled.
"I just bet you WOULD like to teach me how to do that. You're horrible."
Bobby shook his head.
"No, I know you're not horrible. But I don't know if I want
to give you another bath or not now," she teased. "If you
did to me what I saw you doing to Mavis I'd be black and blue for a
month."
Again he stroked her cheek gently.
"Don't count on it buster," she said sternly. But she kissed him long and hard before she left the room.
CHAPTER TEN
The next day was Saturday, one of the two days Donna and Prudence were
off. In theory Sally and Meg had two days off during the
week, but in reality they took time off only if they had something else
to do. Most weeks they worked the same seven days as Mavis
did. Families didn't take days off. That was the way they
looked at it.
Mavis got up early, as usual. Saturdays were like any other day
to her. She expected her hips to ache, like they usually did, but
she felt fine. In fact, as she thought about it, she felt
wonderful. The memory of what had happened in the bathroom rushed
back upon her and she felt heat in her chest. She'd
forgotten how good that could feel. As she dressed she
wondered how anyone could forget that feeling.
Meg was at the stove, and already had bacon frying.
"Morning," she said. "Sleep good?"
It was an innocent greeting ... one they had shared hundreds of
times. Mavis was suddenly suspicious there was a deeper
meaning to the question though.
"Fine. Just fine," she said in her usual semi-gruff voice.
"That's good," said Meg, who appeared to be thinking of something
else. It was obvious that the only added meaning to her greeting
had been added by Mavis herself, and she felt bad about that.
"Actually, I slept like a log," she said. "I haven't slept
that good in twenty years." There. She had called
attention to it herself. Now if Meg had anything to say she could
just say it.
Meg's greeting had been automatic and unthinking. She had been
thinking about the few seconds she had seen Bobby, hunched over Mavis,
his hips driving forward hard enough to shake Mavis' whole
body. Mavis' arms had been spread wide, lying limply on the
floor, her legs also spread wide, but up, pointing at the corners of
the ceiling. Her body had jiggled as Bobby pounded into
her. Mavis' veiled reference to that broke through her
concentration and she looked at Mavis, actually seeing her for the
first time that morning. She looked remarkably fresh ...
almost younger somehow.
Meg didn't actually want to talk about it. If things just
went on the way they were she'd be happy enough. Talking
about it would lead to decisions, and she was afraid about those
decisions.
"What do you want me to say?" she asked.
Mavis didn't want to talk about it either, to be truthful.
She had NOT meant for any of that to happen. The fact that
it had still puzzled her. If she'd been born and raised in
Louisiana she'd have believed someone had used Voodoo, or a magic
potion on her or something. And Meg, young though she was, was a
good woman, and a good friend. Something else she didn't
want was for this to tear them all apart.
"I don't know, Meg. I don't understand any of this," she finally said. "That wasn't me in there last night."
"Well pardon me," said Meg, looking straight at her. "It sure looked like it was you."
"You saw?" something shriveled up inside of Mavis and she felt shame.
"Only a little," said Meg. She wanted to say "I never saw
anything like that before!", but instead she said "It was ...
interesting." She turned back to the bacon.
Well, that wasn't exactly an indictment, thought Mavis. "What I
meant was that I didn't mean for that to happen. I don't even
understand HOW it happened."
Meg sighed. "I know. It was the same with me.
One minute I was just washing him, and the next thing I knew my dress
was on the floor." She darted a look at Mavis to see what her
reaction was to that. Mavis was staring, but she didn't look
angry.
Mavis had to admire the woman for being so forthright in a tense
situation. Rather than go any deeper she tried to re-enforce the
bond between them.
"Well thank you again for getting me a dress. I'd have looked like a drowned rat wearing the old one out."
"What are you going to do?" asked Meg, more interested in the bacon than any bacon deserved.
Mavis didn't want to think about that either.
"I don't know." She sat at the table, suddenly tired. "I just don't know."
Meg turned full on to her boss. "Please don't make him leave
Mavis. I promise I'll never touch him again, but please
don't make him leave." There were tears in her eyes.
Mavis realized the depth of feeling Meg had for the boy.
Then she thought briefly about the depth of feeling SHE had for the
boy. Then she thought about the fact that, after what he'd
done to her ... with her ... last night, it was simply ludicrous to
think of him as a boy.
"I wasn't thinking about you," she said. "I was thinking
about me. If last night was anything to gauge by, if I let
him stay around here there will be pregnant women to deal with."
Meg's eyes got big. "But Sally and I haven't done THAT with
him. We only touch him ... and he touches us, of course, but
that's all. Only Prudence let him ..." She trailed
off as she realized she had spilled every bean she had in her bucket.
Mavis was shocked. She had just assumed that all the women
had done the same thing she had done. She didn't know if
having the facts changed anything or not. She remembered
quite clearly when her own husband had taken her WAY past the line
she'd set for them when they were courting. Then she
concentrated on what Bobby had done with her. She couldn't
think of a single thing he'd done that she hadn't asked him to do, or
helped him do. Well, there was the fact that he'd
undressed her. And, of course there was that first feel of his
mouth on her. That had been a surprise. But then all
he'd done was wash her. It had been Mavis Milleson who had pulled
him out of the tub, and onto the floor, and between her
legs. All he had done was give her what she so desperately
needed.
Mavis looked up at Meg, who was still standing and staring at
her. Her carefully tended bacon was smoking now, and would
be burning within a minute.
"Tend your bacon, dear. I don't think I could live without him now either."
The two of them managed to keep all the rest of the talk about normal
things during breakfast. Sally was on pins and needles during
breakfast, and kept darting glances at Meg and Mavis. As usual,
though, she didn't say much.
After breakfast Mavis got the carvings and took them to the cabinet
maker. He turned them over and over in his hands, peering closely
at the one Bobby had done, and then at the other one.
"You saw him do this?" he asked.
Mavis nodded. "Took him several hours. I know the lines aren't perfectly straight, but it's nice, isn't it?"
The man looked up. "I had to work for ten years as an
apprentice before I could do work this good. Does he go to that
school?"
Mavis nodded.
"He's free in the afternoons, isn't he?"
When Mavis nodded again he went on. "I can teach him.
Don't need to be able to talk to learn, right? And I'll pay him
too. If he does work like this he could make ten, twelve
dollars a week."
Mavis' jaw dropped. "That much for just half a day?" she gasped.
The man nodded. "They's people what have money Mrs. Milleson, and
they want good work. And when they get it they'll part with some
of that money. I'm backed up on good carving work. I could
keep that boy busy for a year if I had him full time."
Mavis took another bag of wood chunks home with her, thinking about the
fact that, in the catalog, a lawnmower cost twenty dollars these
days. And that was for one with a grass catcher that attached
behind the reel!
Quite often Prudence came to the house on both weekend days. With
her husband gone, she had little else to do. Donna spent her days
off rattling around on the farm, doing who knew what.
So it wasn't odd for Prudence to show up after breakfast that day, and
to pitch in. Saturdays were lazy days and the children weren't
required to get dressed until lunch if they didn't feel like it.
She sashayed into the room, swinging her hips. Meg and Sally were
sitting in the parlor, with some of the children who were listening to
a morning radio program. The other children were scattered
in the kitchen or dining room, playing with each other.
"Where's Mavis?" she asked.
"Gone to the cabinet maker's with Bobby's carving," said Meg, still
thinking about her conversation with Mavis that morning.
She hadn't talked to Sally about it. Things were still up
in the air.
"Oh," said Prudence. "How about Bobby?"
"He's carving at the kitchen table. Why?" asked Sally.
"I need his help over at my house. I'm moving furniture around," said Prudence with a completely straight face.
"Oh," said Sally. "Well go ask him. I'm sure he'll do it."
Both Meg and Sally were engrossed in the radio program when Prudence
and Bobby put on their coats and left. They were perfectly
capable of hearing a problem with one of the children, and a wrong
sound would break right through their concentration, but the normal
sounds of two people leaving the house didn't register a bit.
Neither did Mavis' return.
"I'm back" said Mavis, setting down the heavy bag of wood chunks. "And I have good news. Where's Bobby?"
Meg waved a hand toward the kitchen and, as soon as her coat was off,
Mavis went in. She found his carving table, the tools lying on
it, and examined the horse. The upper part was done and now the
horse looked like it was leaping up out of the wood. It was
exquisite. But she couldn't find Bobby anywhere. She went
back to the parlor.
"Meg, I can't find Bobby. Where did you say he was?"
Meg looked up and blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry. Pru came over and needed him to help her move some furniture."
Mavis put her hands on her hips. "And you believed that?" she demanded.
Meg frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
Mavis frowned back. "You've been to her house. She
has a bed that will only fit into the bedroom one way. She has a
settee and chair that are both so light that one of the children could
move them. Just what furniture do you think she needs help with?"
Mavis' tone of voice made Meg felt guilty for some reason.
"I don't know. She just said she needed help. Why are you
yelling at ME?"
"Because," Mavis said patiently, "the only furniture he's helping her move is her bed."
"But I thought you said it would only fit in the bedroom one way," said Meg, confused.
"Up and down," said Mavis, clenching her teeth.
"Oh," said Meg, frowning. Her eyes went wide. "OH!" she
yipped. "But that's not FAIR! It's MY turn!" she
said. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth and closed
her eyes.
"Oh, we're taking turns now, are we?" asked Mavis sweetly.
"It's not what you think," said Meg. "It just seems like it would only be fair to take turns."
"In that case it's probably MY turn," said Sally, who both women had
forgotten all about. "I've only had one turn and since then
you two AND Pru have ... well ... had a turn."
"This is insane," said Mavis, sitting down. "We're talking about
the boy like we own him or something. And to make it worse
we shouldn't even be doing anything with him in the first place."
"Are we hussies?" asked Sally meekly.
"No" said Meg resolutely.
"Yes" said Mavis. "Of the worst kind."
"But I love him Mavis," whined Meg. "How can it be bad if I love him so much."
"You have lust for him Meg," said Mavis calmly. "That's all
it is. Your biological clock is ticking and your body wants to
have babies, and that makes you lustful."
"Is that what happened to you last night?" asked Meg, sticking her chin out.
"Probably," said Mavis, even though she knew she was at the upper edge of her child bearing years.
"He makes me feel all warm and mushy inside," said Sally, staring off into space.
"So, if you don't love him" said Meg, "then you wouldn't miss him if you sent him somewhere else, right?"
"I probably should send him away," said Mavis.
Meg stood up. "You send him away and I'm going WITH HIM!" she shouted.
"DON'T SEND HIM AWAY" cried Sally.
"You should know better too Sally Winston!" yelled Mavis. "You're even older than Meg!"
"Well, I'm not as old as YOU, and all I do is TOUCH him a little. YOU probably MADE A BABY WITH HIM!" yelled Sally.
"WHAT ARE WE FIGHTING ABOUT?" screamed Meg, her face red.
There was a moment of silence and Mavis grunted. "We're fighting
about a man." She sat back down. "Look at us ...
fighting about a man like school girls."
"Can't we just share?" asked Sally. "I wouldn't mind sharing."
Mavis looked at her like she was crazy. "Women don't share men, Sally. It just isn't done."
"Well why not?" asked Sally. "He's the first man to notice
me, or be nice to me, or make me feel good. I'll probably
never get married. I'm not pretty like you and Meg.
Why can't I have a baby of my own?"
Mavis leaned back in her chair. "When did we start talking about
having babies? When did you decided you wanted to be a
mother?"
Sally looked confused. "I don't know. I never thought about
it until I realized he might be making babies in other
women. All I know is that he makes me feel special, and I
want to make him feel special too. And if I have to share him ...
then fine. At least I'll have a man in my life part of the time."
Meg sat up straight. "She's got a point Mavis. Think
about it. Bobby's an orphan. He can't get married
until he's seventeen. But when he DOES turn seventeen,
don't you think some woman is going to snap him up? Can't we just
let things go on as they have until then?"
Mavis shook her head. "He's mute, Meg. No woman is going to want to marry him."
Meg stuck out her chin again. "Well I would."
"Me too!" chimed in Sally.
Mavis' mouth opened and closed several times. She thought about
what it would be like having Bobby around as a husband, instead of as
one of her charges. That wouldn't be a bad thing in any sense of
the word.
"Well I'll be damned," she said.
"Mavis!" chided Sally.
"You'd do it too, wouldn't you?" said Meg. "Admit it ... you'd marry him too!"
Mavis shook her head. "I guess I would at that," she said.
"Listen to me! An old woman like me, saying she'd marry a boy
like that. I must be crazy."
"Did you feel like an old woman last night?" asked Meg slyly. "Or this morning either?"
Mavis didn't answer. She threw up her hands. Then she
laughed. "I almost forgot the news I have." She
laughed again. "And that news is that Bobby will actually be able
to support a wife!"
She told Meg and Sally about the cabinet maker's offer of employment.
Social relationships have always been a murky subject. Society
sets up various rules of behavior, some unwritten, and some codified by
laws and statutes. Then the members of that social group
play the game of seeing how many of those rules, statutes and laws they
can stretch, bend, or even ignore. There are various reasons
people do this, and discussing that that would take up too much room in
an already long story. Just think of it like when you're at a
stop light at two in the morning, and there's no traffic in
sight. You ask yourself why in the world you should obey that
light. It's there to regulate traffic, but you're the only
traffic around, so you feel justified in ignoring it. You look
around, and weigh the risks of violating the rule. Then you make
a decision on what to do. For a whole lot of reasons you may
decide to blow the light, and feel completely justified in doing so.
With the unwritten social relationships the rules aren't as clear to
begin with, and the urge to break them is even stronger when personal
gratification is involved. As far as they were concerned, none of
these women had prospects for satisfying their natural urges ... other
than with Bobby. All had had a taste of what he could provide
them. In some part of their minds, they looked around,
weighed the risks of violating the rules about something that could be
called "monogamy", but wasn't quite that, and of engaging in a sexual
relationship with an almost-man, and out of wedlock to boot.
The pull to keep tasting that glorious pleasure with a man they loved
caused them to ignore the rules and do something they would never have
done in other circumstances.
They huddled, making decisions about how things would be arranged so
that each of the women got a chance to be alone with Bobby.
Prudence would have to just live with what they decided, since she had
pulled a fast one and spirited him off. There was no doubt in any
of their minds that the only furniture Bobby was, in fact, currently
moving, was Prudence's bed. They didn't know what they'd do
about Donna, and decided to cross that bridge if and when they ever
came to it.
About the time that Prudence was being discussed in the Milleson House,
the subject of discussion was having her sixth orgasm of the
day. Bobby had fucked her almost senseless, and had,
indeed, given the bed springs a good workout. He had spurted in
her twice already, and was about to unload again. Good
food, and exercise had built his stamina up. The attention paid
to him by all those women had built up his libido. He was
highly successful in the role he was currently playing, and Mr. Maslow
would have discussed putting him firmly on level four of his
pyramid. At least insofar as he rated in the little community
that was Milleson House.
When they got to her little house and Prudence got him naked, he
experimented with her. He remembered seeing Sally's almost
hairless pussy, with her pouting pussy lips that had looked so tasty
looking. Two of the women apparently liked his taste, and
he was curious to find out if he'd like a woman's taste. So, when
Prudence had lain back in her bed, with her legs spread, urging him to
hurry, he had crawled on the bed at her feet and kissed his way up her
legs. She had giggled at first, then told him he was
tickling her. When he got to her thighs, her comments went
something like this:
"Oooo Bobby that tickles."
"Bobby!"
"What are you doing Bobby?"
"BOBBY!"
"BOBBY YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"
"BOBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
After that she had mostly gurgled, instead of talking, because Bobby
had found out that he liked the taste of "woman" just fine.
And having his lips and tongue right there, sliding all over her sex,
it was no time at all before he found the little nubbin that made her
writhe and scream like she was going crazy, except he could tell that
it was good-crazy, and not bad-crazy. He paid particular
attention to that little bump from then on, and she had two of her four
orgasms before she ever got his prick in her. He noticed, after
the first one, that the little bud was extra sensitive, and that if he
used the flat of his tongue on it while she caught her breath, her
fingers were soft in his hair. Then, as her fingers got more
demanding, he went back to suckling and rode her to another jerking,
babbling response.
He also experimented with her in other ways. When he got his
prick in her, he tried sliding in and out of her the way that Mavis
liked it ... hard and fast. But Prudence made him slow
down, saying he was being too rough. He found out that she
liked it like Rachel liked it, slow and deep, and while he was deep she
liked him to move his hips around. He was a smart boy, and
realized that when he did that, that little lump of flesh that had
driven her so crazy when he sucked it would be flattened and
rubbed. Knowing that led him to experiment with the best possible
way to flatten and rub it with the base of his cock.
That resulted in two more orgasms for Pru, and one for him.
They lay there for a while as Prudence talked about her childhood, and
about meeting the man she thought would make her happy, and how he had
betrayed her. Bobby listened, and bestowed little kisses on her
chin, and neck, and chest as she talked. Then she had to get up
to use the bathroom. She was proud of her body, and wasn't
embarrassed to display it to Bobby, who watched her hips rise and fall
as she walked away from him, and the bounce of her breasts as she
walked back toward him. She was delighted to find him hard
again when she got back in bed.
Prudence, being loved like she had never been loved by her cheating
husband, told Bobby about her desire to have children and informed him
that what they were doing made babies. Bobby had never
quite connected those particular dots before, and the realization that
he might be making a baby resulted in his second orgasm. His seed
flushing into Pru's womb got her off again.
There had been some more cuddling, but then Pru decided that she'd kept
him longer than she should have, and that the others would be
suspicious. So she got him out of bed and decided to clean him up
before he got dressed.
That resulted in another erection and Pru couldn't resist him when he
pushed her back to the bed and covered her body with his one more
time. This time he fucked her hard, but not fast, and she
responded to that combination quite well. She squealed her way
through her sixth cum and, thinking of babies, Bobby drove deep one
last time and fountained into her already sperm-packed womb.
He left her lying there, spread eagled and limp. He dragged a
blanket over her nude body and kissed her on the forehead.
She had fallen asleep while he dressed.
When Bobby got back home, everything looked the same. The women
were performing various tasks, and the children were engaged in various
forms of play or relaxation. But the mood in the house was
different. He could almost smell that difference.
Mavis smiled at him and asked him if he'd done his chores for the
day. He set about getting them done. Then he went to Mavis
and pantomimed that he was going to take a nap. His life at
Milleson House had made him healthy, but he had worked hard to make
Prudence squeal, and three orgasms in the space of a couple of hours
took its toll on him.
Mavis watched him trudge toward the stairs.
"She's a greedy little thing," she said, under her breath.
Mavis, Meg and Sally had decided that the days at Milleson House should
go on as they always had. The routine was set, and the welfare of
the children was more important than satisfying their lust. But
nights were something else again. What did it matter if
Bobby slept in his own bed, or one of theirs? And, that
solved the problem of Donna finding out what was going on. Since
Prudence was off on Saturdays, Bobby could just continue to visit her
at her house. She lived on the outskirts of town, and it was
unlikely that anyone would notice him going there. Even if they
did, they'd just assume he was carrying some message from Mavis or
whatever.
The only other problem was that Mavis knew quite well that she was a
noisy lover, and that, in the still of night, her moans, cries and
shrieks of pleasure might carry upstairs. She didn't know
what she was going to do about that, but was firm in her resolve to
control that problem.
All three of the women were sure that, knowing they would have an
outlet for their passions, they could now just let Bobby take his own
bath.
It wasn't a bad plan, as far as having been made by women who had let
their emotions control their thinking. They only made a few
mistakes, which they cannot really be blamed for.
The first was that they didn't sit Bobby down and explain things to
him. While they might have been able to ignore certain moral
rules, none of them could quite bring themselves to sit and calmly
discuss with Bobby that he was now their private gigolo.
That he was a willing partner suggested that he would adapt to the new
plan.
The second problem was Rachel, about whom they did not know.
Rachel, as it turned out, was a very fertile woman. She too had
let her emotions rule her behavior, and the point at which she decided
to bestow her virginity upon her shining knight may have been advanced
by the fact that she was ovulating at that time of the month. Her
hormone levels helped her make her decision. Her exuberance
in rewarding the man who saved her life, resulted in her womb being
awash with his sperm, and the two eggs her body had produced as a
result of the stress of the attack on her found that sperm perfectly
acceptable. Rachel was going to bear Bobby's twins, and
that fact was going to become obvious in about three or four months ...
painfully obvious in five or six.
The third problem was Donna. It was actually problem
number three that reared its head first. But before you
learn the details of that, you must be provided with a few more
details. They will help illuminate what later happened with
Donna.
Meg and Sally had offered Mavis the first night with Bobby.
She chose wait until Monday night, and truth be told, she waited a
whole two nights because she wanted to anticipate it. She also
spent odd moments making preparations for her tryst. She
hadn't told Bobby about the cabinet maker's offer. She wanted to
do that as a reward for what she knew he was going to reward her with,
later in bed.
When Monday night came she was almost beside herself, waiting for Donna
and Prudence to leave. Prudence had not been told what was going
on either. Mavis had decided that Prudence should be punished for
being greedy. Then, when the two women went home for the
night, the children had to be put to bed. She decided to let Meg
and Sally do that. When June Bug and Emily both took one of
Bobby's hands, so that he could put them to bed, she gritted her teeth
and simply said "Bobby, when you're done with them I'd like to talk to
you." She felt a blush creeping up her chest. "In my room,
please."
Mavis went to her room and then couldn't decide whether to undress and
put on her nightgown, which she didn't plan on sleeping in this night,
or to just wait. She fiddled with the thing she had made out of
strips of cloth from the bundle of clothing that was used as spare
fabric to make things with, or use in repairs. She tried it
out for possibly the fifth time and felt silly. She hoped
it would work.
Then she felt, more than heard, her door open, and he was there.
She self consciously hid the thing in her hands behind her back by
putting both hands there. As a result her breasts thrust out at
Bobby. She could already feel her nipples tightening and
extending. Even though she was much better prepared for
this event than she had been the first time, she felt her resolve to
keep control slipping.
"Bobby," she started, somewhat breathlessly. She spoke to
him as a man, and not the boy she was charged with housing.
"Sometimes it gets lonely in here at night. I was wondering
if maybe you'd sleep here tonight ... instead of your own bed."
Bobby felt his prick thicken immediately. He liked making
love with Mavis. He liked making love with all of
them. Each was slightly different, in her own way, but all were
easy to please and it was so much fun pleasing them. She sounded
nervous, and the way she had phrased her invitation made it clear that
she felt like there was the possibility that he'd reject
her. That would be unthinkable. He smiled
and nodded.
There was a moment of awkwardness while they both just stood, waiting
for the other to do something. Bobby, used to responding to
instructions, generally waited to do anything until he knew what was
expected. Here, though, he felt a little more
secure. He stepped forward and reached his fingers to the
buttons of her dress. He didn't need to look at them to
undo them. Instead he looked into her eyes. They
seemed wet, like she was getting ready to cry and she bounced on the
balls of her feet, her hands still behind her back. When he
was able to push the sides of the dress apart and bare her breasts, he
let his fingertips drift across them with a feather light touch, ending
up under them and lifting them a little. Mavis closed her
eyes tightly. Her breathing was ragged. She jerked as
his fingers left her breasts and went to the bun she usually wore her
hair in. He pulled the pins, picking at the hair until it
fell to her shoulders.
She kept her eyes closed, savoring each new feeling as his fingers
brushed the dress off her shoulders. She had to let go of
what was in her hands to get it off, but then clasped it tightly
again. She was glad she'd made it. She knew she would
need it. She felt her panties being dragged down and felt
his breath on her hairs. She couldn't suppress a sound that
forced its way through her throat as he kissed her abdomen.
Then she felt his lips drift upwards, and her nipples grew almost
painful as his mouth got closer and closer to them.
Her groan, as he sucked the first one in, filled the room.
"Get ... undressed now ... Bobby," she panted. "I need ... to be ... in bed."
As soon as his lips left her she turned and leapt for the bed, which
she'd turned down already. She wiggled into the middle of it, on
her back, her legs already spread. She'd had enough
foreplay and she wanted him in her. The thing she'd made was in
her left hand. She still felt silly about that, and she shoved
that hand under her pillow. Then she turned her head to watch, as
his beautiful strong young body was exposed.
"Oh please" she moaned, seeing his stiff member, ready to fill
her. "Oh please, oh please, oh please" she begged. She
wasn't begging him, exactly, she was begging that this happen before
she had a stroke or something. Her body was taut as a
fiddle string, her hips rising to meet him and he wasn't even there yet.
Bobby knew what that pleading meant, though. He wasted no
time once he was naked and went to the bed, climbing straight on top of
her. Holding himself up he let the tip of his prick descend
until it bumped her hair. She was moving so much it would
be impossible to find the spot. Both her hands were up by her
head, one under the pillow, the other gripping the pillow, so he held
himself up with one arm and fisted his cock with the other hand.
Watching for the right moment, he let his hips drop and, at the instant
he felt heat kiss the tip of his penis, he let go and lunged forward.
Mavis felt the shock of her emptiness being so suddenly filled that it
was like magic. He went deep and his skin slapped
hers. The orgasm she'd been so close to, just from the
anticipation, flared brightly as her whole body seemed to
vibrate. She snatched her left hand out from under the
pillow and stuffed the inch-and-a-half thick woven rope of cloth she'd
braided between her teeth, biting down hard as her shriek of completion
burst out of her lungs.
It came out as a muffled "EEEEE" sort of sound, high pitched, with a
little "Mfph" sort of sound thrown in several times as she fought to
keep her mouth closed on her gag.
Bobby, able to recognize by now a woman in the throes of ecstasy,
grinned and pushed harder, wiggling his hips back and
forth. As soon as that long drawn out "EEEEEE" softened, he
began pounding Mavis like he knew she liked to be pounded.
He was rewarded with three more "EEEEEE"s before he shot her full of his spunk.
Mavis woke up twice that night, her gag still clutched convulsively in
her left hand. She woke him both times, pulling him between
her welcoming legs. By morning her gag was wet with her saliva.
It wasn't until then that she remembered to tell him that he had a job.
